My family sucks!!!
Too bad! We have good genes and could have been very successful. We are not meant to be miserable people but our luck turned. I just hope the brood break away from this karma. Now, I�d like to share my views and hope someone get something good out of this.
My scrutiny:
Let�s start from my father. He was the best of what he did and earned big bucks for doing it; he even made the history pages to prove it. He was a good provider and has good taste. We should have been the perfect family like he wanted. But we have to grow independently! And with my father not being home most of the time, we wandered too far. The litter getting out was against my father�s Spanish blood and it made him boil all the time. I believe in learning from our mistakes, but since my brothers and sisters never got the support of our father, we never learned. Or if we did, we were never forgiven and felt forever shooed away from family. We learned that learning is not a good thing. Harsh, I know. Thank God for my mother! She was always there to bring us back together.
Like most fathers, he appeared to be strong and scary, but behind the masks, he was a very insecure man. Like most of us, we have our own little insecurities. Though my mom was so good in covering it up, I found out later about the drinking, the women, and the excessive generosity to his extended family, especially the witch sister. It would have been alright if his children did not grow apart. But we did. The combination of the extravagant lifestyle; the strictness of my father�s rules and the mom�s ever loving tolerance lead most of us to different directions. We became rebels to him. Therefore, we were treated like criminals and did not get the support from him. Forgiveness was against his pride. He died denying me.
I love them to death no matter what:
The oldest brother was a really good man. He was the most hard-working person I ever met. Boy did he discover his insecurities early! Virginia was a pretty lady across the street and he was heart-broken. He quickly ricocheted to another woman and married her for rebound. And she made him pay for that and he is still literally paying for it. She would instinctively beat up the kids with her jealousy of her. Unconsciously scarred everyone, emotionally and physically, including me. I got to slap her once though! HA HA
The next oldest escaped several ways. Let�s say she was saved by an Oreo cookie once. Though she made it out, she never could escape my father�s blood that still runs warm on her veins.
The third brother was every mother�s delight. He was regular mother heart breaker. To me, he was a real life movie. He could have been more popular than Bruce Willis if he did his life in a movie. Underneath the body paints, he�s got emotions stronger than volcano. Even though he suckered me off with a lot of money, I still love him.
The next sister was a survivor. She is a regular hippie. I am proud of her. She is quite a high maintenance girl but she has a big heart.
The youngest boy was a charmer. He charms everyone especially the women. But he couldn�t charm his way back to his family. He should have known that his sons, like our father, do not carry a forgiveness cell in their blood. I cry just thinking about him. But his oldest son was close to my heart as much as I can not choose between them. I would like to see them learn to forgive each other just before I die. I can feel their hatred for each other 8000 miles away. I love them dearly.
And then, we have the youngest of them all. I was born 7:11pm one Christmas season. After a decade of family hardship and drama, I finally made it out. The drama continues but not around me. I saw a little chapter of their lives growing up but I have my own to subsist. My mom sent me to an exclusive catholic school and hoped for the best. It just made it worst because my brothers and sisters think I was saintly and would judge them. I became segregated. They do not know catholic school girls.
My chapter:
We all have our own chapters of our own emotions, struggles, longings, restrictions, hatreds, and dark secrets we are not proud of sharing and we�d be afraid to be judged. And when a wrong judgment was made, we suffer and so are they. But we also have the good, the bright, the happiness, the love, the faith, the intelligence, the munificence. With the blessing of my blissful mother within us we would not fail as a person. We would survive no matter what. We will not be judged or judge because we all have the same complex, exceptional gene cells in our blood. We would arise above our trial and fright because we are survivors.
My conclusion:
Yes, as a person we grew apart. But we are still family. I still treasure one family picture with my mother when we had one of our reunions. After all the inadvertent pain we brought to each other, we have the love for one another as blood brothers and sisters. The unintentional scars we brought to each other were a reminder of how we survived the bad, the tyranny, and the scariest times of our lives. We break out not to escape the family to deny ourselves the pain of reality.
As I grew older I learn one thing. Acceptance is the first step to cure. Accept and learn my enemy, my weakness, and my failures. The more as I admit to myself, the more I succeed. The more own up to my mistakes the more I have the strength to avoid it. Understand not only who I am but where I came from and the blood I carry. Accept that I have this weakness inside me that I know I need to outshine. Recognize when I am failing that I know when to rise. Learn from the mistake of your father and his father and his father before him and recognize it so you won�t unsuspectingly inherit it. Divulge within yourself the experiences of life. Learn it. Live it.